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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031203">KRYZE</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytardisisparked/pseuds/mytardisisparked'>mytardisisparked</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Clan Kryze, I'm not an expert please don't shoot me, Korkie is a Kenobi, Mandalorian Politics, Mostly Canon Compliant, but make it kinda spicier, exploration of the kryze family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:07:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytardisisparked/pseuds/mytardisisparked</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the war, there were nearly 200 members of Clan Kryze.</p><p>Centered on Sundari and led by the respected Adoni Kryze, the clan thrived up until the civil war broke the Mandalorians into pieces. They were thinkers, leaders, and, though the New Mandalorians of the clan were loath to admit it, top-notch warriors. They set the example for the rest of Mandalore to follow.</p><p>After the war, there were 7 members of Clan Kryze.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bo-Katan Kryze &amp; Satine Kryze, Korkie Kryze &amp; Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze (background), Satine Kryze &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an exploration of what happened to Clan Kryze following the Mandalorian Civil War. Assuming I can stick with this story and ADHD doesn't get the best of me, it will stretch from Satine's return to Sundari into the end of the Empire. It will focus on a number of different characters, but the primary players will be Satine, Bo-Katan, Isatol, and Korkie.</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before the war, there were nearly 200 members of Clan Kryze.</p><p>Centered on Sundari and led by the respected Adoni Kryze, the clan thrived up until the civil war broke the Mandalorians into pieces. They were thinkers, leaders, and, though the New Mandalorians of the clan were loath to admit it, top-notch warriors. They set the example for the rest of Mandalore to follow.</p><p>After the war, there were 7 members of Clan Kryze.</p><p>Nearly the entire clan had been executed in the first weeks of the war. Those who were able to escape Sundari and hide were slowly hunted down by enemy clans and killed all the same. The seven who were left standing at the end of the war were the ones who had just barely managed to stay alive until the war ended and put Satine Kryze, Adoni’s eldest daughter, on the throne. As the Duchess of New Mandalore, she instituted a pacifist ideology immediately, a task that was not difficult following the extreme loss of life the war had wrought. </p><p>Duchess Satine was, of course, one of the seven. Her younger sister, Bo-Katan was another, as was their cousin on their father’s side, Isatol Kryze. On their mother’s side, Garna and Heiway Kryze, their aunts, had survived but refused to return to the city where their sister had been murdered. Alaan and Tekel, Garna’s sons, had returned to Sundari to sit as advisors on Satine’s council.</p><p>Satine sighed and sat back in her chair as she scrolled through the list of the dead. Seven alive out of what was once 200 Kryzes. Seven. There was barely a clan left at all.</p><p>The duchess swiveled her chair around to look out at the city, watching as trucks cleared away rubble and cranes rose above the battered skyline. Smoke from fires that were still burning turned the sky grey and left an acrid smell in the air even here in her private office. It had only been three months since she had returned, and she knew she needed to be patient, but she wished the construction would speed up. It wasn’t that she was vain and wanted to rule from a pretty, idyllic city, she just knew that it would be easier for the people to follow her rule and believe her promises if they were living in a city that didn’t smell like smoke and refuse.</p><p>She took a deep breath, feeling bile rise up the back of her throat, and pressed a hand to her mouth. Ah, there it was; her not-so-subtle, daily reminder that Clan Kryze would soon have eight members, not seven. </p><p>She ran a hand over her still-flat stomach as she waited for the nausea to pass, hoping the action would somehow calm the life growing inside her long enough for her to get some work done. As her stomach settled, she turned back to her desk and pushed away the pang of sadness that threatened to bring tears to her eyes.</p><p>There were times where she could feel sorry for herself and regret not asking Obi-Wan Kenobi to stay and meet his child. There were times to wonder what might have been if she had allowed him to do what he so desperately wanted to do and leave the Jedi Order behind for her. There were times where she could grieve the life they could never have. Work hours, however, were not part of those times.</p><p>She took a deep breath and flipped to the next clan census report, setting aside her sorrow for the Kryzes.</p><p>“Duchess?” A quiet voice spoke from her doorway. “You wanted to see me?”</p><p>Satine looked up to find her cousin, Isatol standing awkwardly outside her door.</p><p>The duchess grinned wildly. “Isatol!” She stood (not too quickly though, fearing another round of morning sickness) and stepped around the desk to summon the girl into the room and pull her into a hug. “You’ve grown!” She laughed, stepping back to look Isatol over.</p><p>Though Satine had been on the run for a year, it had been about three since she and Isatol had last seen each other. They had stayed in contact through letters, but such notes had not prepared her in the least for how her cousin looked now; a once gangly, awkward child had become a strong, solid, beautiful young woman. Though Satine was only 4 years older than Isatol, there was no way now that anyone would notice their age gap.</p><p>Isatol smiled back. “You haven’t.”</p><p>Satine smacked her arm playfully. “Hush now, you’re only an inch taller.”</p><p>“Keep telling yourself that,” she chuckled.</p><p>With a laugh, the duchess pulled Isatol to her couch and sat her down, keeping her hands clasped firmly in her own. “How have you been?”</p><p>Isatol’s eyes dipped away and, suddenly, she looked much older than 20 standard years. “It’s… not been easy. My family went into hiding until we could hide no longer. And then we fought.” Her grip on Satine’s hands tightened.  “My father died in one of our first battles. I wore his beskar'gam after that. My mother died a few months later.”</p><p>Satine’s heart twisted. “How long were you alone?”</p><p>“Seven months.”</p><p>“You-” Satine swallowed “you fought and ran by yourself for seven months?”</p><p>“Well, mostly.” Isatol tilted her head. “There were three weeks in there somewhere where a boy from House Vizsla and I traveled together, but we got separated and I haven’t seen him since.” She took a deep breath. “But yeah, other than that I was alone.”</p><p>Satine pulled her cousin into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Isa. You shouldn’t have had to go through this alone.”</p><p>Isatol hugged her back. “I survived, and that’s what matters.”</p><p>They pulled back and sat quietly for a moment, while Isatol surveyed the room. “Where’s Bo?”</p><p>Satine felt a pang in her chest. “I- I haven’t seen much of her since I was coronated.” Her gaze fell to her lap. “The war changed her. She’s colder.”</p><p>Her cousin took her hand again in her own. “Give her time. Bo’s always been introspective; she might just need time to think.”</p><p>They sat quietly for another moment as Satine considered her next words carefully. She trusted Isatol with her life, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed the prospect of saddling her beloved cousin, and, perhaps, her closest remaining friend, with such a large responsibility. She would need to provide her an out before Satine revealed her full hand.</p><p>“Isa,” she spoke slowly, “I have a favor I would like to ask you, but I must tell you that this will not be an easy task. I don’t wish to burden you after everything you have been through, so, please, if you need more time to recover and heal do not hesitate to say no.”</p><p>Isatol smiled. “I think having a task right now would do me some good, actually. I could use something to take my mind off of everything.”</p><p>Satine gave her an uneasy smile. “I appreciate that, but I need you to understand that what I will be asking you isn’t simple; it would be a job that requires your loyalty and secrecy at all times and-” she took a steadying breath, “there’s a secret that comes along with this job that I would ask you to carry to the grave.”</p><p>Her cousin’s smile fell, but not into a face of disappointment, just concern and curiosity. “You know I would never break your confidence.”</p><p>“I do, which is why you are the only person I trust with this, but I need to know that you are prepared for this, that it will not be too much for you to take on.”</p><p>The younger woman considered for a moment. “I am. I want to help you in whatever way I can and, as I said before, I need a purpose to move forward.” She looked toward the window and gave an ironic smile. “I never got to finish my education, or fall in love, or find a job because of this war and the infighting that preceded it. I have no idea what to do next with my life.” She turned back to Satine, looking confident. “I would gladly take your offer of a purpose in life.”</p><p>Satine smiled sadly. “Thank you, Isatol.” She swallowed. Despite her cousin’s confidence, she was still struggling to get the words out. “I would like to ask you to become the head of the palace guards and my personal bodyguard.”</p><p>She glanced back up at Isatol to find her smiling brilliantly. “Satine, I would be honored!” She laughed. “I could put everything I’ve learned during the war to good use.”</p><p>The duchess felt her heart lift at Isatol’s reaction, but she didn’t allow herself to celebrate quite yet. “Yes, you’ve always been quite the strategist. And your attention to detail makes you perfect for such a position. I have no doubt that you will serve the palace and the people with the utmost skill.” She bit her lip. “But, Isatol, there’s… something else.”</p><p>Isatol grew quiet, her face becoming more serious. </p><p>Satine took another steadying breath. “I need your help with- well, I need you to-” she coughed, “I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I’m-” </p><p>Satine felt like the world was suddenly spinning faster around her. Though the child that grew within her was something she had been aware of for several days now, it wasn’t something she had ever acknowledged aloud, let alone to another person.</p><p>“Satine?” Isatol leaned forward, studying her cousin’s face intently. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“I’m pregnant.” There. It was done. The words had left her mouth and entered the world and there was no taking them back.</p><p>“Oh.” Isatol sat back, her eyebrows raised and mouth open. “Oh.”</p><p>Satine felt her face growing red. “Please, do not judge me. This wasn’t the result of some one-off dalliance; I loved him, and I still do.”</p><p>Her cousin leaned forward and put a hand on Satine’s shoulder. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Satine. I know you. Just tell me what I can do to help.”</p><p><em> I know you </em>. The young duchess nearly broke down at those words, at the understanding in her friend’s eyes. After days of feeling like a stranger in her own skin, of dealing with the fact that she was going against every courtly protocol lesson she had ever been taught by bearing the child of an outsider to whom she was not married (let alone, a Jedi), Isatol’s lack of judgement was the balm Satine needed to heal from the emotional injuries she had inflicted upon herself.</p><p>With a shuddering breath, Satine simply said: “I think right now I just need a friend.”</p><p>Isatol smiled. “I can do that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Satine faces some tough decisions and Bo-Katan considers her future.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Two months after Isatol Kryze took her place as the Head of the Mandalorian Guard, there were five members of Clan Kryze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garna and Heiway Kryze had been killed in an attack by remaining traditionalists who had refused to comply with Satine’s policies. It was a sad event, but it was the final motivation some of the clan leaders needed to join the New Mandalorians; such senseless violence would surely lead to all of Mandalore’s destruction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine rubbed a hand over her brow as she set the official report of her aunts’ deaths on her desk and leaned back in her chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s only five of us left.” She muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Five?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Bo-Katan leaned over the desk and flipped the report around, scanning it quickly. “Five people left in our clan?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Satine sighed. “You, me, Isatol,” she threw a thumb over her shoulder to the redhead standing at the window behind her, “Alaan, and Tekel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo pushed away from the desk and paced the room. “We have to do something, plan retaliation. The crimes against our family have gone far enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Bo.” Satine leaned forward, hoping her sister would look her in the eye for once. “We have offered that anyone unwilling to comply with the pacifism laws a chance to live on Concordia and do as they please within the bounds of their moon. If we retaliate now, we will be going against our own laws and likely instigate further violence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her younger sister whirled around. “You mean to let them get away with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean to increase security around Concordia and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>pull us into another war that will end in the destruction of more lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo scoffed and threw her hands in the air. “You really can’t put your idealism aside for just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one second</span>
  </em>
  <span> and avenge our family? These people are criminals! They should be punished!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine stood. “These people </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> criminals which is why engaging with them will surely end in more death and chaos! We have them contained and they will stay that way until we can stabilize our society and government.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo took a few steps towards the desk, teeth grinding. Behind her, Satine felt Isatol step closer. Bo’s eyes flashed to their cousin and back to Satine. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, and closed it, spinning around and storming out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door slammed behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine sat down, heavily, massaging her temples. “She’s getting angrier and more stubborn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s grieving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I just wish she would talk to me instead of yelling. I’ve tried talking to her and it never seems to end well.” Satine groaned. “I think she blames me for everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I should try talking to her then. She might not want to listen to you if she thinks you are the source of her problems.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to have to intervene in our conflict.” Satine twirled her chair around to face Isatol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to help.” She glanced down. “She’s my friend too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duchess considered for a moment. “Very well, if you are willing and you think it would help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll speak with her this evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine nodded and turned back to her desk as Isatol began walking the perimeter of the room. “How are you feeling today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thankful that we’re finally past the morning sickness stage,” Satine chuckled. “But I don’t appreciate how much my back hurts. I’m not even that big yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank goodness for that. Your dresses are still concealing you well.” Isatol gestured at Satine’s waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully we can keep large, flowy dresses in style long enough to keep this up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been Isatol’s bit of genius to start manipulating the fashion trends towards larger dresses that would cover the bump that was growing at Satine’s waist. Satine herself had designed several sets of courtly gown that would serve her purposes and began wearing them the week after Isatol had taken up her position as captain. So far, their plan had worked; by seeing the duchess wear flowing dresses, the rest of the cabinet and leaders from surrounding systems had done so as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If not we’ll figure something else out.” Isatol returned to her post by the desk. “Have you decided what to do once the baby is born?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine was quiet for a moment. “I’d like to keep it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up at Isatol, gauging her reaction. If her cousin was shocked, she didn’t show it, not that she usually let her emotions drift to her face. “That will complicate things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m aware,” Satine bit out, “but I want my child to be a part of my family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we need to start planning now how to conceal his true identity.” She grew quiet for a moment. “Maybe I could claim he is mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine stood and rested a hand on Isatol’s shoulder. “I appreciate your willingness to take that on, but no one would believe it’s yours, or Bo’s, for that matter. You’ve both been wearing close-fitting clothes for too long.” She stepped away and moved to the window. “We’ll need to pass the child off as an offspring of a deceased member of our clan. Maybe a distant cousin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol stood beside her. “If we use someone real, someone who actually existed, wouldn’t the secret bear a greater risk of being exposed by another clan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose.” The duchess turned her head to look at the captain. “Do you have something different in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s… not an idea I’m particularly fond of, but what if we invented a long-lost sibling of yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine thought for a moment. “You want to… </span>
  <em>
    <span>suggest</span>
  </em>
  <span> that my father sired another child outside of our family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I said, I’m not fond of the idea either, but it might be our best shot.” Isatol dipped her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll… consider it.” Satine turned back to her desk and settled into her chair, picking up another report. She had much to think about, and not much time to make decisions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo threw all of her fury at her sister’s- her sister’s- </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiocy</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the punching dummy in the corner of her room. Usually, throwing her fists haphazardly into the bag of sand calmed her but today, for some reason, each punch just made her angrier and angrier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just wished Satine would </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She wished Satine would get her head out of her ass and wake up to the real world where problems couldn’t always be solved by talking. How could they ever protect their people if there were no consequences for such crimes as murder?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bag swung as Bo threw a particularly hard punch into it, knocking it into a wall. She followed it up with another of the same power, and another, and another. It wasn’t enough. The fire inside her soul just burned hotter and hotter until-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d hate to meet you on the battlefield.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo caught the bag with a thump and turned around to find Isatol leaning against the doorframe. The sight of her did nothing for Bo’s rage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would.” Bo turned away and began unwrapping her hands, throwing the strips of cloth in the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t seen you much since you returned from hiding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a question in that statement, one that Bo wished Isatol would just come right out and ask. But, that wasn’t how her cousin operated; she was subtle and sneaky and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo took a deep breath. “Yeah, well, we’ve both been busy.” She faced her cousin. She was almost three years older, and a few inches taller, but Bo did her best to look her straight in the eye. “You’ve been working for my sister, and I’ve been avoiding courtiers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanging. “You resent me for choosing to serve in the guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There, that was better - a direct statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I resent the idea of leaving our culture behind.” Bo took a step forward. “You fought for Mandalore, you wore the beskar'gam. I thought you of all people would understand what it means to be Mandalorian.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fought so we could have peace, not so we could keep fighting. I was in the war, so I understand the horror of it.” She nodded at Bo. “You lost your family too. Our whole clan is almost extinct. I thought you of all people would understand that war is destruction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo scoffed and turned back to her wrappings. “Satine’s gotten in your head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn't come here to fight you Bo, I want to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help?” Bo turned back to her. “With what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol shook her head. “I don’t know just-” She sighed. “We used to be friends, and I miss that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The younger woman paused. “I do too.” She looked back at the captain. “But the war’s changed so many things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has, and I think we all need time to figure out our places in the world that has been left in its wake.” Isatol pushed off the wall. “I know we might have different opinions on things right now, but I’m still your friend, Bo, if you’ll let me be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo nodded, unsure of what to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine would be too, if you’ll let her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That had been the wrong thing to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo’s lip curled. “She sent you here to calm me down, didn't she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol blinked. “No, Bo, wait-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you can scurry back and tell my sister that I’m fine. I don’t need her to send her lapdog to check in on me.” Bo threw the second set of bandages in the corner and stormed towards her bathroom, refusing to look at Isatol again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Refusing to see the hurt she knew would be there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slammed the bathroom door shut and turned towards the mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo hardly recognized the girl looking back at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the war, Bo-Katan’s hair had been long, her face had been round, and her eyes had been bright. Now, her red locks were short, falling just below her chin, and her cheeks had hollowed out, partially due to her age, partially due to a lack of reliable food in recent years. Her eyes remained bright, but the light in them was more fire than the starlight of her youth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and splashed some water on her face, washing away the sweat from her workout as a pang of guilt speared her chest. Calling Isatol Satine’s lapdog hadn’t been fair; she might have been there at Satine’s request, but Isatol was an honest person and had meant well. Bo would apologize to her later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she toweled off her face, her comm chirped from the bathroom counter. Brow furrowed, Bo reached for it and held it up - it was a typed message from Pre Vizsla, a friend from the war.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bo Katan Kryze - I have an interest in meeting with you to propose a venture. If you are receptive, please find us at the coordinates below in two days. - Pre</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned. Pre had seemed like a nice enough guy, and it was said that Satine was considering making him part of her cabinet as he was a prominent member of House Vizsla, so why did he want to meet with her? Whatever it was, it was probably just another court manipulation maneuver; he likely hoped to use her to win favor with Satine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, perhaps, he really did have a proposition just for her, something that Bo alone could accomplish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo set the comm down and leaned back against the counter, looking up at her reflection. Isatol had been right about one thing: they did need to find their place in the world the war had left behind. Mandalore wasn’t the same place it had been, and Bo wasn’t the same person she had been either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was time for her to start taking some chances to figure out where she fit in all of this, where her anger and passion could benefit her people most. And maybe, Pre Vizsla’s venture would be a good place to start.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Two Hundred and Thirty-Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alaan and Tekel move to the palace to help guide Satine's cabinet, sparking old memories and new concerns.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“One!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine stood with her feet shoulder-width apart, the staff in her hands presented horizontally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The staff swirled swiftly as her body moved so that her right foot was forward and the end of the staff was facing her instructor at the front of the ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Careful not to hit either Bo on her left or Isatol on her right, she jabbed the staff forward, stepped back, and spun so that she was doing the opposite pose of the one before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pleasant morning breeze swept through the training ring as the youngest members of the Kryze Clan practiced, swirling their staffs between each position until their movements were as fluid as the surf of the distant beaches. Graham Kryze stood before them, the most experienced warrior of the clan, and guided them through each step.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the sun reached its peak, the trainees were released.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine turned, closing her water bottle. “Alaan,” she said with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent work today.” He flashed her a charming, white smile that stood out against his distinctly not-Kryze tan. “You’ve really improved on your footwork this week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alaan’s praise would have grated her nerves coming from anyone else but, from her older cousin, it didn’t hold an ounce of the condescension she loathed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bowed her head. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He patted her on the shoulder and turned to Bo standing next to her a few feet away. “You too, Bo-Katan! You’ve gotten so strong!” He stepped over cheerfully and thumped her on the back, earning himself a sly grin from the ten-year-old redhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m almost ready to take you out, Alaan.” She raised her eyebrow in mock defiance as Alaan chuckled, heartily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I look forward to you knocking me on my rear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do I.” Tekel, the eldest of the trainees at twenty, approached and leaned on his brother’s shoulder. “Look forward to watching you knock Alaan on his rear, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine shook her head as the brothers laughed with Bo and turned to Isatol and Lena, her second cousin on her father’s side. “How are you two feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol rubbed the spot on her head that had connected with Lena’s elbow two days before and grinned sheepishly. “Lights still feel too bright but otherwise, I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Lena could apologize for the 100th time in the span of 48 hours, Satine jumped in. “Are you sure you can still remember everything? You know your name is Iceberg, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The younger girl gave Satine a friendly shove on the shoulder. “Hilarious, your Majesty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ring slowly emptied as the Kryze’s went off to track down their midday meals and a place to rest or play for the afternoon. Satine slowly packed her things, listening with a grin as her family teased, praised, and laughed in the afternoon sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine?” Bo stepped up beside her, the last one left. “Is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her older sister flashed her a smile. “Of course, I’m just-” She took a deep breath. “I wish things could always be this way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo tilted her head. “What? Hot and sweaty and sore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Satine laughed. “Just, peaceful, I suppose. I like it when we are all together like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do too,” Bo grinned. “Except when I have to fight Tekel. He’s big.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine looped her arm around her sister’s shoulder. “He is, I don’t like fighting him either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They began walking to the door of the arena.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Bo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things aren’t always going to be this way, are they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine felt her heart constrict. “What makes you say that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her sister shifted awkwardly beneath her arm. “I overheard Father talking about more clan infighting. He said they’re getting more riled up than he’s ever seen them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine nodded. “They’re not happy, I know that. But I don’t think the conflict will escalate too quickly, or reach this far in-system.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In truth, Satine was not sure; her father and mother’s worried voices had her on edge and the words “civil war” had been floating out into the hallway from the duke’s advisory chambers. She had tried asking about the subject, but her father had just told her to keep focusing on her studies and that he would explain when he had a better grasp on the situation himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stopped and turned to Bo, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “Honestly, I’m not. Things change all the time, sometimes for the better and sometimes for worse.” She ran her thumb soothingly over the material of her sister’s blue shirt, carefully holding the gaze of the big, blue eyes looking up at hers in concern and doing her best to seem confident. “What I do know is that you are my sister and, whatever comes next, we will always have each other, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo gave her a small smile. “Okay, Satine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Satine smiled back and pulled Bo back under her arm as they continued their walk towards the palace kitchens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, I suppose we should start strategizing,” Satine said, a hint of humor creeping into her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo looked up at her and raised a brow. “Strategizing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Satine nodded, sagely. “You’ll need a plan if you’re going to take Alaan in hand-to-hand combat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a laugh, her younger sister gave Satine a shove, to which Satine retaliated by pulling her sister into a friendly headlock and ruffling her short, red hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>------</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Five</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind howled through the hangar, a cold contrast to the too-bright sunlight leaking through the entrance at the far end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine shifted on her feet, trying to take pressure off of her aching back. For the most part, her pregnancy had been gentle enough, but as she entered her third trimester, she struggled to be comfortable in any circumstance. Out in the hangar on her feet, with the sun shining and the wind blowing, she was somehow too hot and too cold at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She resisted the urge to lay a hand on her swollen middle hidden beneath her voluminous skirts as she thought to herself: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just three more months. Hang in there for just three more months</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the sound of the wind, Satine could just make out Isatol’s voice giving orders to her praetorians stationed around the platform. She could also make out Bo’s sigh from beside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Punctuality is a virtue,” Bo grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine turned to her and gave her her best reassuring smile. “You should tell Alaan and Tekel that when they land.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you tell them; you’re the duchess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’ve always been their favorite cousin.” She smiled as she said it, hoping Bo didn’t take offense; every one of their conversations lately (if they were even long enough talks to be considered “conversations”) had felt like navigating a minefield, usually unsuccessfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, though, Bo seemed to be in good spirits, despite her impatience. “Yeah, well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> the cuter sister.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heart lifting more than she could say, Satine laughed a full, sparkling laugh. “I can’t disagree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine’s heart lift even further when Bo gave her the warmest smile she had since the war had ended. If it hadn’t been for the smoke still rising from the city below outside and the insistent movement within her abdomen, Satine could almost believe they were back in the times before their world fell apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine took a careful step towards Bo and opened her mouth to say something more, but her words were washed away by the humming sound of an approaching ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol stepped back up next to Satine, pulling her new praetorian helmet over her head and exchanging a glance with Satine through the slit in the visor. “Here we go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ship settled on the platform and the ramp extended, allowing two tall, dark-haired men to step down into the hangar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine!” The shorter of the two said with a wide smile as he extended his arms, welcoming his cousin into a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Alaan.” Satine said warmly as she stepped into his embrace, careful not to let her abdomen press against his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her as he pulled away, grinning even wider and more mischievously as he turned to her sister. “And Bo!” He pulled her into a hug that quickly turned into a friendly headlock. Bo smirked as she pulled his arm away from her neck and quickly wrenched it around, pinning Alaan’s arm behind his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you’re not just getting slow to arrive at family dinners, but in your fighting skills as well,” Bo said over his shoulder as Alaan laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I apologize for our lateness,” Tekel said with a bow as he approached the group. “We had some difficulty with a fuel leak on our way here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine’s face grew grim and she spoke quietly, stepping away from Bo and Alaan as they continued their tussling. “Do you suspect foul play? Or was it simply a malfunction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tekel bowed his head. “We aren’t sure. I am having my men examine the fuel lines now. I want to believe it was just a coincidence but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can never be too sure,” Isatol said as she stepped up to Satine’s side. “I’d like to take a look at the line as well, if that would be suitable to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tekel nodded. “I would appreciate a trustworthy set of eyes; thank you, Isa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once you are finished with your investigation,” Satine said, “we can begin our meal. In the meantime allow me to take you both on a tour of the palace and show you to your rooms.” She smiled at Tekel and put a hand out towards the door to the palace, inviting him inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long to show her cousins the palace - after all, most of it had been destroyed and the sections that were left were still mostly in need of reconstruction - before long, Alaan and Bo were walking ahead to dinner as Satine and Tekel meandered the halls, remembering old artworks that were now gone and discussing plans to rebuild.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they came to the end of the hallway, Tekel paused. “I… heard the rumors about your father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine nodded. Three weeks ago, she and Isatol had anonymously slipped a rumor to the press that Adoni Kryze had fathered a child before he had married their mother; the start of their plans to cover the true identity of Satine’s child. Sullying her father's honor was not something she took any pleasure in doing and the guilt had been eating her for weeks, but she knew it was a necessary evil for the sake of her child, herself, and Obi-Wan Kenobi's future as a Jedi. “Ah, yes,” Satine feigned embarrassment. “My father’s… bastard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tekel rested a hand on her shoulder and gave her a look that was so filled with understanding and kindness that guilt pooled in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t know if there's any validity behind these claims, and I don’t really think your father would have done such a thing, but just know that I am here to help you handle the situation in any way I can, even if you just need someone to talk to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a smile, Satine reached up to the hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Tekel, you are most kind.” They turned and continued their walk. “We’ve begun investigating the claims to see if they are true. As much as this situation might… complicate things, finding previously unknown members of our dwindling clan would be a silver lining to all of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you bring your half-sibling into the clan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Satine lifted her chin. “They would be very welcomed into Clan Kryze, with a vote, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tekel nodded. “Good. Now is not the time to isolate potential allies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stepped into the dining room and took their seats. Satine sat at one end of the table with Bo at the other. Tekel and Alaan sat between them on one side, and Isatol, now in a dinner-appropriate dress, sat opposite the men. As dinner unfolded, friendly conversation turned to the teasing and banter of their youth, and, for the second time that day, Satine felt a sense of peace at the normalcy of it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were, of course, some glaring absences. There should have been ten of them at the table. Five of their cousins were dead; two executed, three killed in action.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before survivor’s guilt could encapsulate her mind, Satine picked up her glass of water (there was a current shortage of alcohol in the city, which aided greatly in covering her current inability to drink) and lifted it to eye level as her family did the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the ones we lost, and the ones left behind to pave a new path.” She said quietly as the others nodded their agreement. They all took a slow, reverent sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the meal ended and the cousins began filtering out into the hallway to retire for the evening, Isatol pulled Satine aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got a look at their fuel lines,” she said, quietly. “It was cut.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine’s eyes widened. “So it was an attempted assassination then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol nodded. “It would seem that way, though the attempt was quite inexpert. The line was cut in the wrong spot for it to ignite an explosion, thankfully. Whoever this was didn’t quite know what they were doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank goodness for that.” Satine paused and narrowed her eyes. “How do you know so much about how to cut fuel lines?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taller woman looked away. “I... did things in the war that I’m not proud of, but I needed to do to survive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though she found that statement quite unsettling, Satine could see the regret in her cousin’s eyes and chose to let the topic go. “Well, I suppose we should increase security then. We need Tekel and Alaan safe if they are to help in my cabinet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol smiled. “Ah yes, we need them safe </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> so they can help in the cabinet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine gave her a friendly scowl. “Oh hush, I’m not that cold-hearted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet, the surrounding systems call you 'The Ice Queen' behind your back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An effective moniker, I suppose.” Satine looped her arm through Isatols as they walked back to Satine’s quarters. “It certainly helps me get the job done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two joked their way back to Satine’s room, but there was a sense of unease over them both at the implications of the attempted assassination on Tekel and Alaan; someone was trying to kill members of Clan Kryze, and that meant the rest of them were also at risk.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Kryzes discuss their newfound family member, Bo works to find her own path in New Mandalore, and Satine and Isatol prepare for the arrival of the youngest Kryze.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So it’s true then, you have an older brother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine sighed from behind her desk as Tekel scanned the document in his hand. She didn’t bother to stand; even with her dresses, she was worried that, at mere weeks away from her due date, her clever cousin would notice the significant swell at her waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would seem so. He has a wife too. Apparently they are expecting their first child.” She leaned forward as Tekel handed the flimsi back to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they had no idea he was part of the royal family?” he wondered aloud, moving towards the portrait on the wall. It was a painting of the Kryzes that had been alive after the war, commissioned by Alaan as part of his initiative to encourage and support artist pursuits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None whatsoever. Their mother told him his father died before he was born and he never had any reason to question it. He only found out when he and his wife had their chain codes tested while they were preparing to start their family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beautifully crafted lie, if Satine might say so herself. No one had questioned the story so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting.” Tekel reached up and brushed his fingers over the oil-based figure of his mother. “And you believe his intentions to be honorable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” Satine shifted as the baby landed a solid kick to her bladder. Based on how often her child moved and kicked, she could tell that the combination of Jedi and Mandalorian genes would be most dangerous indeed; she was absolutely going to have her hands full. “He wasn’t planning on even coming forward with the information. His heritage was leaked through the genetics agency and he only owned up to it because we came looking for him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tekel smiled. “Well, I’m glad to see some evidence of integrity, I suppose. We’ll have to bring him to the palace soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has been invited, but he decided to wait until their child is born as his wife is currently unfit for travel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That part had been invented by Isatol. The two of them had spent hours the week before going over possible questions people might ask and crafting the perfect story. Though Bo did not and would never know that it was a farce to cover Satine’s pregnancy, Satine had sat with her and told her the entire story of their brother before they told everyone else. It was best that the Kryze sisters appear as a unified front in the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine had been pleasantly surprised to see Bo take the news of their bastard brother with an uncharacteristic grace. Perhaps Bo was turning over a new leaf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I look forward to meeting the fellow,” Tekel said, turning back to her desk. “Our family dinners could use some variety.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had taken Bo nearly 2 hours to lose Alaan. She loved his company, and usually his persistence in being a helping hand to her was welcome, but she had plans today for which he absolutely could not be present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slipped down the last hallway leading towards an old servant’s entrance to the palace. The door creaked as she slowly pushed it open, but the tattered tapestries on the wall blessedly absorbed the sound, holding it within the hallway instead of letting it echo away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo took one last look down the hall and, upon seeing no one following her, sighed and stepped out onto the streets of Sundari. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A grey haze lingered this low in the city levels from the fires that still burned. Nearly choking on the smog, Bo pulled a mask over the lower half of her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The city streets followed a fairly neat grid, which made finding the warehouse relatively easy. Their meeting spot changed every time they met in order to make it difficult for people to sneak in, but that was far from an inconvenience for Bo as she rather liked seeing new parts of Sundari every month.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stepped up to the door of their most recent meeting location and knocked on the door once, then twice, then once, then three times rapidly. It creaked open and she moved into the dim light, pulling her mask down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, there you are, Bo. We were beginning to wonder if you weren’t coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo flashed a grin. “Sorry I’m late, Pre, I had company I couldn’t get to leave me alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pre Viszla motioned to a chair next to the 4 other members of their organization present. “No worries. Come, we have much to discuss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Settling into her seat, Bo turned her attention to their fearless leader.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad to say that, though they are not all able to be here today, we now have ten members of Death Watch at all levels of society.” He gave Bo a small smile. “Thanks to the recruiting efforts on Bo Katan’s behalf within the palace, I have no doubt that we will soon have enough members for a faction. Once we are large enough, the duchess will have to allow us representation on her council and we can begin reintroducing the old ways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure the duchess is going to accept our presence?” A voice spoke from the far right of their circle of chairs. It was a young woman, but Bo couldn’t remember her name. She was tall, with wide shoulders, and she kept her entire face covered with a veil. “She’s fairly staunch on her pacifist views.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s also shown that she is willing to listen to her people,” Bo said. She understood the woman’s perspective and, frankly, she had a point, but it still didn’t sit well with Bo when other people spoke ill of Satine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has, but this war has changed us all.” Pre rubbed his chin. “We will need significant numbers if we are to get her attention. Let’s keep up our recruiting efforts and training. We should also consider making our movement more public soon. Maybe a big gesture will start pulling more people in.” He grew quiet for a moment, staring at the back wall. After a few seconds, he shook his head and smiled at them all. “Speaking of training, why don’t you all start stretching and sparring on your own, I’ll join you in a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a smile, Bo stood and headed over to the wall, where Pre had provided mats, staffs, stun blasters, and various wrist-attached weapons. She pulled a mat down and started stretching with the others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eye wandered back to Pre, who had moved into the corner farthest away from them. He pulled a holo out of his pocket, and spoke quietly to a blurry figure. Bo squinted, unable to identify the subject. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about Pre’s posture didn’t sit well with her; his shoulders hunched over the comm and he seemed tense. A knot grew in her stomach as he muttered at the person on the other end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knot tightened as he suddenly turned to look at her and quickly hung up, dusting his fine robes off and moving away. He didn’t look her in the eye the rest of the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine was getting really tired of these damned meetings; her head hurt, her back hurt, her stomach hurt, and every time Rolph Yargen, an old member of her father’s cabinet, spoke she thought she would puke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... and if we accept the planet as an official part of our system, what kind of precedent does that establish?” Rolph said, raising his voice to a level that truly grated on Satine’s nerves. It didn’t help that he had been giving the same argument all afternoon nor that he spoke in circles that could have generated g-force in even the most stabilized of starships. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine’s eyes flicked to the unfamiliar guard at her side, sorely missing Isatol’s presence. They had received a new group of recruits to the praetorian guard yesterday and, much to her chagrin, Isatol was spending the afternoon training them in non-lethal defensive maneuvers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She winced as her stomach rolled again, allowing herself to brush a soothing hand over her stomach since everyone’s attention (or, at least, gaze, judging by the glazed eyes around the room) was currently on Rolph. The gesture did little to comfort her. She closed her eyes and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My lady,” the guard stepped closer subtly, speaking barely above a whisper, “Are you well? You look quite pale.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine gave him a grateful look. “I’m feeling a little ill, but I should be alright, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m at your service should you require anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” She shifted in her chair, trying to alleviate her aching back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She survived another 20 minutes of pains and aches before an idea began growing in her mind regarding the reason behind her intense discomfort. She survived another ten after that before she reached a state of certainty and decided to do something about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Councilors,” she said as she stood, holding back a groan as her body protested the movement, “I appreciate your opinions on this matter, but I’m afraid I will have to cut this meeting short as I am unwell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The councilors murmured their assent, a few whispering their appreciation for the break to each other. Rolph looked upset at having been interrupted, but Satine couldn’t care less. The room cleared and she made her way to the courtyard, hoping she could make it before another cramp came. Her bodyguard stuck closely by her side, making it clear that his assistance was available should she decide she required such.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another contraction did hit right as she reached the courtyard entrance but she was pleased to find that it was less painful than the few she had experienced while sitting. She was able to continue a dignified walk past the new recruits without pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol looked up from where she was helping a trainee with their posture as Satine approached. Their eyes met, a concerned question clearly displayed in Isatol’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Captain, how are the new praetorians?” Satine smiled; if she rushed her removal of Isatol from the training grounds, it would spread suspicion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite well, your Grace.” Isatol tucked her hands behind her back and examined the trainees as they stood and saluted the Duchess. “They are strong, though a bit clumsy, and they have not yet learned organization,” her gaze landed on one tall young man who had a cocky grin on his face, “But they seem to be learning quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent.” Satine stepped closer to Isatol. “Perhaps then they have earned a break; the day is quite hot and if they are learning quickly, may this be continued tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol tilted her head. “Perhaps you are correct. You may be dismissed for the day, so long,” she turned back to the tall boy, “as you all finish your stretches properly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Murmurs of “yes ma’am” swept through the group and Isatol dismissed them, letting them get water and start their post-training routine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I assume this isn’t really about the heat.” Isatol spoke quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed.” Satine took her arm. “Walk with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol looked at the young man that had been protecting Satine. “Keep an eye on the recruits, Corpsan. Make sure the tall one stays in line.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corpsan saluted as they walked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as they were inside, Isatol turned to Satine. “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in labor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol’s eyes widened. “It’s two weeks early, are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, quite sure. I’ve been having cramps and backaches all afternoon. It’s hard to say, but I believe the cramps are occurring just about a half-hour apart.” She tugged on Isatol’s arm, continuing their movement towards Satine’s apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have some time then,” Isatol said, relief in her voice. “How are you feeling so far?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine snorted. “Like hell, but better now that I’m not listening to useless bureaucrats prattle on about utter nonsense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol grinned at her cousin’s mire. “Sorry to hear the council was a pain today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re a pain every day, today was just compounded by the fact that I am beginning the process of birth.” Satine smiled back in spite of everything going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol was quiet for a moment, growing more serious. “I’ll have your meetings canceled for tomorrow and send for a med droid once we get to your chambers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Satine sighed as they reached her door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol led her to her bed and got her settled in before running off to take care of her tasks, leaving Satine to ponder her predicament in silence. She had known, of course, that she was having a baby and that this meant she would soon have someone to take care of, but it hadn’t felt real until this moment. Within the next 24 hours (goddesses willing), Satine would be a mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart twisted as she thought of the future she was facing and allowed herself, for the first time since she had returned to Sundari, to think of the only other person she wished could be there. She knew, if she so desired it, Obi-Wan could be by her side as fast as a ship could travel the hyperspace lane between Coruscant and Mandalore. He would sit with her and hold her hand as she delivered their child into the world. He would kiss her tenderly and promise to take care of them both until his dying breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She also knew that, to ask him back now, would be cruel. She couldn’t rip him from the Jedi Order and his dream. She couldn’t put herself in such a precarious position as having a Jedi spouse when Mandalore was so unsteady. To ask Obi-Wan back would mean disaster for them both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet, she found her hand reaching for her commlink to type in his call signal.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was slightly distorted through the speaker of her comm, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddesses</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was his voice, still so soothing and melodic and rich.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obi-Wan, it’s me, Satine,” she stuttered out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine!” she smiled as his excitement burst through the speaker. “How- how are you? Is something wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I’m quite alright.” She bit her lip. “I just missed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was silent for a moment. “I… miss you too.” His voice was quieter, more gentle. The sound of it almost made Satine feel as if he were brushing a knuckle across her cheek. “It’s been a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has, many things have changed here.” She nearly smacked herself for that; she was toeing a dangerous enough line by calling Obi-Wan and didn’t need to test her resolve further by alluding to the baby in any way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure. Are things going well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, mostly.” She chuckled. “It’s going as well as calming Mandalorians down can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” he said, a smile in his voice, “not well at all, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, she would have given him some sharp retort about how equally frustrating Jedi could be, but the baby shifted within her and took the bite out of her attitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you well?” she asked instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As well as I can be. Qui-Gon is still driving the council and, subsequently, me to near insanity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grinned at that, imagining Qui-Gon dragging Obi-Wan on some council-unapprove crusade as the younger ginger man rolled his eyes good-humoredly. “Give him my best, will you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell him he can have your best if he promises to go one week without picking a fight with Mace Windu,” he grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine laughed aloud. “Very well then, I give you permission to use my well-wishes as bribery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your contributions are appreciated,” he laughed back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fell into silence for a stretch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I probably should say goodbye now, I didn’t have much time to call. I just… really wanted to hear your voice.” Satine fiddled with a ruffle on her dress, fighting the tears that pricked at the corner of her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment and, when he finally spoke, his voice was thick. “I’m always here, Satine. Whenever you should require me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Softly, they said their goodbyes and Satine was, once again, alone with her thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Isatol returned before emotions could take the duchess over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad news.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nevermind, perhaps emotion would take her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Satine groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The med droid we had arranged to deliver your child is broken. It can’t be fixed until the end of the week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine swallowed hard. “Is there another droid available?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol shifted on her feet. “Yes, but they are all hooked up to the hospital network and the information they obtain is sent into permanent record that can be accessed by hospital staff across the city.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that won’t do at all.” Satine reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should I try to find another one in the city somewhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thought about it for a moment. “Only in the case of an emergency. Asking for such a specific model of droid will draw suspicion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol suddenly looked very nervous. “What do you suggest we do, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By her tone, Satine could tell she already knew. “You’ll have to deliver the baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine, I’m not trained for that.” the twenty-year-old dropped to her knees in front of where Satine sat on the bed, taking the duchess’s slender hands in her rougher ones. Satine could feel the calluses on the sides of her thumb and forefinger from the staff she had wielded during the war. “If something goes wrong I’ll be of no use.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine pushed away the fear that rose in her chest and squeezed her hands tightly. “Then pray nothing goes wrong. I’ve been healthy so far and the med droid said I should be able to deliver smoothly when it checked me a few days ago.” She smiled and stood, moving over to her closet to remove the heavy outer layers of her dress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But the baby is early!” Isatol followed her, looking more distressed than Satine had seen her ever look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have miscalculated.” Satine said mildly, even though she knew she had not. She and her Jedi had only lain together once, the night before he left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to look at the captain, who had crossed her arms, looking quite skeptical. “I still don’t think this is wise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have every faith in you, Isatol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine smiled and rested her hand on Isatol’s shoulder. “Give yourself some credit. You’ve been studying developmental biology for months now in preparation for every step of this pregnancy. You are more prepared than you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol looked away, her mouth quirking to the side without humor. “You’re stubborn as a kalduk, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that mean you’ll do this for me?” Satine stepped back and continued undressing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you insist.” Isatol said tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, dear.” Satine gave her a brilliant smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much to Isatol and Satine’s relief, the birth of Korkie Ben Kryze went off without a hitch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, there had been several moments of panic on both ends over the course of the 13 hours it had taken for Satine to deliver, but they had all been overreactions to natural parts of birth for which the two cousins had simply been unprepared. Though it was painful, and Satine was nearly too exhausted by the end to properly push, Korkie’s entrance into the world was relatively normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Isatol caught the red-faced, crying child, she laughed in relief upon the realization that the ordeal was over and the baby was healthy, if a bit small. She hurriedly wiped blood away from the baby’s face and smiled up at his equally red-faced, teary mother. “It’s a boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second Korkie was in Satine’s arms, her heart nearly burst. Though her son looked like every other squishy-faced baby she had seen, the knowledge that he was hers, that she had played a part in creating him with the man that she loved more than anyone else in the world, made him the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello there,” she said with a shaky, choked laugh. “I’m your mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blue, clear eyes gazed up into her own. They were her eyes, in terms of color, but the shape matched his father’s. She couldn’t yet see remnants of herself or Obi-Wan in the rest of Korkie’s face - she had never understood how people could see such features in a newborn - but his eyes were so clearly a result of them both that she could only sob and hold him closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol finished cleaning up as best she could and stepped up next to the bed to look at the bundle in Satine’s arms. “He’s a handsome little guy,” she said with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is.” Satine didn’t look up, unable to tear her gaze away. “I don’t think I will ever stop holding him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol chuckled. “I’m sure your feelings on that will change once he starts keeping you up until unholy hours of the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.” She was quiet for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You did good, Satine." Isatol's hand rested on her cousin's shoulder as she reached down to brush a finger ever so gently over Korkie's balled-up fist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So did you," Satine looked up at Isatol and took her hand in her own, squeezing it tight. "Thank you. For everything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol smiled and squeezed back. "Anything for you, my friend."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine gave her hand one more squeeze before directing her attention back to Korkie. "I wish Bo could have shared this moment."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So do I."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both grew quiet, watching Korkie kick and paw at the air. Suddenly, Satine glanced up at the clock on her nightstand. “Oh, Isatol, you have more training in an hour, do you need to arrange for someone to take over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol’s face scrunched and she swore softly under her breath. “I should probably go myself. My absence will look suspicious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine looked up at her in disbelief. “But you haven't slept!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her cousin shook her head, suddenly looking a little distant. “I’ve done harder work on less sleep before, I will be fine.” She moved over to the wall, adjusting her clothing and hair in the mirror. “I’ll send another guard to stand outside your door and tell them you are sick and shouldn’t be disturbed unless there’s an emergency.” Isatol paused, glancing back at Satine. “Will you be alright on your own?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe so.” She glanced at the baby in her arms, who was still studying the world around him with wide eyes. “Is the door soundproof enough in case he cries?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It should be. Should I tell Tekel that your brother’s wife has given birth and they will come to visit in a few days?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine sighed. “I suppose so. Tell Bo first, though. She deserves to know before the others since Korkie is her nephew, no matter who his parents are.” She reached up to brush hair stuck to her forehead back. “This next stage is where our plan gets complicated."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol smiled. “I know, but I think we have it handled.” She turned back to the door. “I’ll get Korkie’s birth certificate written up tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the captain left the room, Satine pushed away her anxieties regarding the future and turned her attention back to her son. She smiled down at him and brushed a finger over his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a big week ahead of us, my son, but I think we’ll be just fine so long as we stick together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the Galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s eyes flew open with a start, breaking his focused meditation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon cracked an eye open from where he sat across from the younger man. “Is everything alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obi-Wan took a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest where his heart was beating rapidly. “I-I think so. There was a disturbance in the Force but…” He reached back out into that great energy, his eyes closing once more. “It was a joyful disturbance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Qui-Gon opened his other eye and studied his padawan closely. “Any idea what it means?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Master,” Obi-Wan stretched his power as far as he could without fully reentering a meditative state. He found a speck of light far away, but he couldn’t get close enough to identify it. Faintly, through the Force, he could feel the remnants of that burst of joy he had felt moments before. “It’s just… happiness, somewhere out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then,” Qui-Gon smiled, “I suppose you should accept this joy the Force is offering you. It seems to be a gift.” In a padawan so often plagued by premonitions of trouble, he was delighted to see the Force choosing to show him something good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Obi-Wan let that speck of light fill him with whatever warm feelings it had to give, his heart lifting. He smiled. “I will.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey, thanks for sticking with this! I know this was a super long chapter, but I wasn't able to find a good way to split it up that would match the pacing I want for the next few chapters. Hopefully it was still worth reading! I appreciate everyone that has left kudos on this story so far; I've been developing these characters and this story for a long time on my own and to see that other people are enjoying them is surreal and awesome. </p><p>See you all again soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Pre Viszla is acting kinda sus, Isatol gains some battle scars, and Satine's security council meets to discuss how to handle the threat of unhappy exiles.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There came a point in the ruse to hide Korkie’s true parentage that Satine wondered if she had gone too far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In order to prevent the world from knowing that “Kel and Jenana Kryze” were not, in fact, real people, she had sent Isatol and Korkie to a distant moon within the system and had Isatol simulate a crash. Her cousin had walked away from the wreckage of the ship with Korkie in her arms (handed to her by a hidden nurse droid so that he was not part of the actual crash), the last remnant of her bastard brother’s family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol insisted over and over again that she was fine, but Satine knew the young captain had suffered some real injuries in the crash and burned herself pretending to try to pull her two remaining passengers from the ship as it exploded. A deep cut now ran from the corner of her bright hazel eye to the hinge of her jaw below her ear that would never heal. Another gouge in her upper arm would likely have a similar fate, along with a number of shallower scratches and burns from shrapnel across her back and limbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Satine saw Isatol limp into the palace holding Korkie as she broke the news to their devastated family members, Satine hated herself. She hated that she had been foolish enough to fall into bed with a man without taking precautions. She hated that she put her cousin’s life on the line for the sake of covering her indiscretion. She hated that her plans and ideas had given her family hope only to rip it away from them in a single moment. She hated that her son’s life would have to have such a tragic beginning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To put it simply: in that moment, Satine hated herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had swallowed such feelings though and had taken Korkie into her arms as Isatol was escorted away to the medcenter. In their sadness over the loss of Kel and Jenana, her family had still gathered around her with curious excitement to peer down at Korkie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s got the Kryze eye color, that’s for sure,” Alaan chuckled quietly as he reached down and stuck his finger in Korkie’s hand. The baby gleefully wrapped his tiny hand around it, holding it tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it looks like he’ll be ginger, like a proper Kryze.” Tekel gave Satine a small smile, which she responded to by stepping on his foot. Satine had long gotten over her insecurity of being one of the only Kryzes with blonde hair, but that didn’t mean she would let mockery of her uniqueness slide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo quietly ran a hand over the tuft of hair that had just started to grow atop Korkie’s head. Satine glanced up and, to her wonder, Bo’s eyes were glassy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bo?” Her sister’s head shot up, blinking rapidly so no one would see her cry. Satine smiled and turned towards her. “Would you like to hold your nephew?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo’s eyes widened. “I-” she blinked again. “Yes, I would, but you’ll need to show me how.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine smiled and carefully arranged Korkie in Bo’s arms, smiling wider as she stepped back to watch Bo gently bounce the baby boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo looked back up at Satine with a small smile before glancing back down at Korkie. “Hello, Korkie, I’m your aunt Bo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo’s voice was quieter and more gentle than Satine had ever heard it. Her heart ached; it took every fiber of Satine’s willpower not to tell Bo the truth then and there, that this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> son and she was so proud of the fact that he would grow up with such an aunt as Bo-Katan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tekel cleared his throat, shattering Satine’s thoughts. “I believe it would be wise for you to make a statement about this matter, Satine. The public needs to know what has happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes. You’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo moved back to Satine and handed Korkie back to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to be there with me, Bo? It might be good for our whole family to be there.” Satine looked back up at her sister as she adjusted Korkie in her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo looked like a deer in the headlights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I would like to, but there’s something I have to do.” She swallowed. “Go on without me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine blinked and opened her mouth to ask if Bo was alright, but her sister had already turned away, walking quickly down the corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She turned back to Alaan and Tekel, wondering where exactly it was that Bo-Katan seemed to be spending all her time as of late, and what could possibly be so important now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” She bit her lip. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo could hear her sister’s voice echo through the streets as she made her way towards the Vizsla headquarters, fists clenched and teeth grinding.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It is with great sadness that I must announce the untimely death of my recently discovered elder brother…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The smog hardly bothered her, even without her usual mask pulled over her nose and lips. She wasn’t even sure she had breathed since Isatol had stumbled off of the transport from the edge of the system, bloody, burned, and bruised.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We are conducting a further investigation, but it would appear that this attack is the result of an independent group of insurgents…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned the corner and the Vizsla residence came into view, looming over the other buildings around it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This tragedy is the result of unnecessary violence, a violence for which Mandalore should no longer stand. This is the very reason we have taken a vow of pacifism, so that we may…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Three sharp raps on the door. Within seconds, it opened to show the very face Bo was looking forward to punching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bo-Katan? To what do I owe this-” Pre was cut off as Bo pushed her way inside, slamming the door behind her. Within seconds, she had grabbed him by the throat and shoved him against the wall, keeping her forearm pinned firmly over his trachea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What in the name of-!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me you didn’t do this!” Bo snarled, shaking the taller man. “Tell me you didn’t kill my brother!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t!” Pre’s voice was so high it could have been a squeal. “I just learned of their death moments ago!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t believe you!” She increased the pressure under her arm as she leaned closer to his face. “I saw you talking with that man over the holocom the other day,” she said, her voice suddenly lower, more dangerous. “You were looking pretty shady there, Pre. You wouldn’t look me in the eye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bo, I can explain, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Bo was flat on her back, a heavy weight on her chest and a shadow across her vision, she looked up to see a tanned, dark-haired boy leaning over her, his knee pinning her to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stand down,” he said, his voice smooth and even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo snarled and rolled backward, kicking the newcomer over her head and pulling herself up to straddle his torso, pinning his arms beneath her knees. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> stand down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ENOUGH!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo looked up to see Pre aiming a blaster at her head, set to stun. “Get off my bodyguard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She roughly shoved off of the boy, smirking a bit as she heard the wind leave his lungs. As she stood, Pre put his blaster away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Tristham, but I have this handled.” Pre dusted off his robe as if to prove his point. Tristham looked dubious, but nodded and walked away anyway, making sure to shoulder-check Bo on his way out with a glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She barely restrained herself from knocking him down all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to you, Bo, I didn’t have anything to do with the attack on your brother.” Pre sighed. “My holo call the other day was to the leader of a rebel cell on Concordia; he is interested in an alliance with Death Watch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Bo leaned against the wall and let all her previous feelings of anger and aggression slip away. “Well, are we allying with them then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him I would consult our members before I gave him an answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tilted her head. “Then why did you look so guilty? This sounds too mundane to cause you distress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pre suddenly looked very nervous. “Because this particular rebel cell used to be led by the man who executed your parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, Bo was seeing red again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidding</span>
  </em>
  <span> me?!” She pushed off the wall. “Why are we even considering this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because, like it or not, we are in desperate need of more numbers!” Pre took a step towards her. “I don’t like the prospect either but, if we are to truly enact change, we might have to make some unsavory decisions!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Unsavory decisions?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>’” Bo scoffed. “This is completely out of the question. If you go forward with this, I’m out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your opinion has been noted,” Pre snapped. “Now, we will continue this discussion at our next meeting.” He turned away, but paused, suddenly deflating. “I am sorry about your brother, Bo. I heard his child got out alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo swallowed the lump in her throat, shoulders sagging. “He did. His name is Korkie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pre looked over his shoulder. “We’ll figure out who killed them. I promise, you’ll get your revenge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She simply nodded and watched as he walked up the foyer stairs, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Eventually, she found enough willpower to get her legs to start walking out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol winced as she sat up, reaching for the water on her bedside table. She choked back a cry of pain as the burns on her back stretched and pulled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No wait! I can get that for you!” Satine stood quickly from her chair next to the bed and grabbed the bottle, uncapping it and handing it to her cousin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol murmured her thanks and took a long drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she lowered the bottle, she realized Satine was still standing by the bed, her head low as she fidgeted with the end of her long, flowy sleeve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Isa, I never meant for you to get hurt.” Her voice was so quiet that Isatol could barely make out what she said; her ears were still ringing from the crash and subsequent explosion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine I already told you, I did this willingly. You don’t need to apologize.” She smiled and reached out to take one of her cousin’s slender hands in her own. “Would do anything for Korkie. And you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine squeezed it. “But you shouldn’t have had to put your life on the line like that for the sake of my actions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m your bodyguard, putting my life on the line for you is literally my job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a scowl, Satine dropped her hand. “This isn’t a joking matter, Isatol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She carefully schooled her features. “I know, I’m just trying to show you that I’m okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine could do nothing but nod before collapsing back into her seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Korkie?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Off with Tekel and Alaan.” Satine smiled softly. “They’re very excited to have a baby to play with. It’s a shame neither of them are fathers yet, they would both be very capable of such a role.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol smiled back. “It’s a good thing Korkie will have them as influences, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they grew quiet again, the question Isatol had been avoiding asking popped back up into her mind. She had told herself that she was never going to ask, but, upon having more time to study Korkie’s features on their flight to and from the system’s edge, the question had become a thorn in her side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine?” The duchess raised her head. “About Korkie,” Isatol cleared her throat. “I know it’s not really any of my-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Satine!” Alaan practically skidded into the room, Korkie tucked against his chest, wailing loudly. “I think he’s hungry and I don’t know what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine smiled and stood, holding her arms out to take the distressed infant. “Not to worry, Alaan, I’ll take care of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alaan sighed in relief as Korkie’s cries reduced to whimpers in Satine’s arms. “He must like you a lot better.” He shook his head with a good-natured chuckle. “I think I’ll leave you two alone. I need to speak with my brother.” He smiled at Isatol. “How are you feeling?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled back. “Just fine, though I would welcome your company once you are finished with your meeting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face lit up. “Of course! I’ll bring cards and tea!” He slipped out of the room, leaving the two women alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine quietly closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry for the interruption; I believe you were going to ask me something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol met Satine’s eye and shook her head. “I don’t remember what it was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something glinted behind Satine’s gaze, but she just smiled and headed towards the changing room just off Isatol’s hospital room. “Well, if you think of it, let me know.” She closed the curtain behind her to feed Korkie, leaving Isatol to her thoughts. Before Isatol could think too deeply, however, exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks and she fell asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine shivered in the chill of the hangar bay as she watched Pre Vizsla's speeder land. She winced; the contraction of her muscles in the cold served as a painful reminder that, despite having given birth almost a week ago, she was still quite sore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pre stepped off his speeder with a grin, a security guard trailing him closely. “Duchess! It’s an honor, as always.” As he drew closer, he took her outstretched hand and kissed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine returned his smile, resisting the urge to wipe the back of her hand on her robe. “Thank you for joining us, Pre. I look forward to seeing your contributions to our peaceful security task force.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Duchess. I’m grateful to have been asked to be a part of this.” They both turned to walk inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, as the new governor of Concordia, it is integral that we be on the same page if we are to keep the exiles on your moon from causing trouble amongst the citizens elsewhere who just want peace.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine didn’t notice Pre and Bo exchange a glance as Bo fell into step beside them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please feel free to settle yourself and your bodyguard in your quarters. We will hold the security meeting in a few hours.” Satine stopped as they reached the end of a hallway. “You’ll be in the blue room.” She motioned down the hall. “Bo can show you the way; I’m afraid I need to go meet another councilor in the hangar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pre gave a short bow. “Of course. I’ll see you at the meeting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine stepped away, leaving Bo in her wake. She remained quiet until her sister’s footsteps faded into nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean to investigate from inside the palace, then?” Bo stepped around him, not looking to see if he followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but Tristam here will be.” Pre jogged a little to catch up with the younger woman. “He’s my best guard and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need his credentials, I just need to know that he is going to uncover who is behind this,” she snapped over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Tristam himself finally spoke. Though Bo had heard him speak once when she had attacked Pre, she had failed to notice then what a unique accent he carried. She knew it was from somewhere within the system, but she couldn’t quite place it. “I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bo stopped and turned, giving the young man a slow once-over. “Good.” She turned back to the door she had stopped next to and opened it. “These are your quarters. Make yourself at home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before either man could respond, she stormed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol winced as the med droid wrapped the bandages tightly around her torso. A combination of the burns on her back and the bruised ribs beneath her tender skin made movement more difficult than she cared to admit. If it were a calmer time, she might have stayed in bed for another few days like the doctor recommended. Tonight, however, was a security council meeting and, as head of security on Sundari, there was no chance in </span>
  <em>
    <span>haran</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was going to miss it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The droid rolled backwards and chirped at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” she said, reaching for the loose, linen shirt next to her bed. Gritting her teeth, she slowly slipped it over her head and tucked it into her pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her walk down the hall started slowly, but it slowly picked up as her muscles loosened. By the time she reached the throne room, she was just able to conceal her limp and hold her shoulders back straight. She pushed the doors open and stepped inside, hands tucked behind her back, low enough that they would not rub against any of her injuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isatol.” Satine stood from her throne, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I thought you would still be resting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol raised a hand. “I’m her on a strictly administrative basis. No guarding for me today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine nodded and sat back down. “Thank you for coming.” She turned back to the other counselors that were present as Isatol found a chair and did her best to sit in a dignified manner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you all for being here.” Satine smiled at the 10 people seated in a semi-circle in front of her. “Your attendance gives me hope for the future of Mandalore as a peaceful nation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face fell. “However, there is still the matter of those who do not wish to see Mandalorians leave our violent history behind. Though we have tried to create agreements with the exiles of Concordia, they have continually sent assault teams down to attack our citizens. We need to decide how to best protect our people without provoking them to further destruction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What measures do we currently have in place?” Shari H’yugen asked. She was the governor of Nog, the planet closest to the sun, her skin dark and her eyes bright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have shields up around each planet, but they are running at just enough power to keep small ships and laser fire out. If the exiles were to get ahold of a warship we wouldn’t have enough power to stop them from entering the atmosphere,” Isatol said. Other than that, ground level defense has been left up to the governor of each planet. I can’t speak for them, but here in Sundari we have a significant number of guards stationed around the city, concentrating on entrances through the dome and on the street at entrances to the sewers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have similar defenses on Shukut.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And on Bonagal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But is it enough?” Pre said, leaning forward. “The people I have been entrusted to care for on the mood are determined; they will stop at nothing to take back Mandalore.” He looked up at Satine. “Perhaps we should create a real army, not just a set of guards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satine’s eyes immediately darkened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could unleash a verbal thrashing upon Vizsla, he held his hands up. “Hold on! I’m not saying we would use it, I’m just saying having one there might be enough of a threat to keep them away. If we look like too much of a challenge to conquer, they likely won’t even try. They are small in number, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they are small in number, then a security force should be enough,” Satine snapped. “If we form an army it will turn us into hypocrites. Yes, it might keep the exiles away, but what sort of message will it send to surrounding systems?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would look rather suspicious,” Shari said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Isatol nodded. “So perhaps we should simply boost our security force and look for alternative ways of powering planetary shields that will keep them running at a higher rate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could provide a significant amount of geothermal energy,” Shari tilted her head, “but such energy isn’t easy to transport further than a few planets away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talk faded into how to power shields and recruit more guardsmen, but Satine felt her concentration slipping as she caught Pre Vizsla’s eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though his face was blank, there was something hard and sharp in his gaze that unsettled her greatly. While the others spoke, they didn’t hear him mutter to the duchess: “A larger guard force is just a pretender’s army.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, though she had no idea how to respond. Before she could even think, Pre turned back to the conversation at hand, slipping easily into the discussion as Satine could only sit and watch, pondering Pre’s words.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mando'a Translation:<br/>Haran = hell</p><p>I don't really know much about Mandalorian planets beyond what I learned on the internet while writing this, so forgive any inaccuracies. This story is only mostly canon-compliant, so I am taking some artistic liberties to make Mandalore more diverse. <br/>Anyway, hopefully this chapter was enjoyable! Thanks again for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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